Page 84 of The Locksmith's Promise

Maggie’s question preyed on my mind.

I knew there were holes in my story, but what did it matter now that we were back together? I didn’t want to give my father one more minute of my life.

The burns he’d left on my body had healed.

The wounds on my soul had long ago crusted over and fallen off.

Walking into Ayana’s, a pretty woman with a long, blond ponytail assessed me quickly and flashed a smile. “Baxter Martin?”

I nodded and offered her a small smile. “That’s me.”

She whipped around so fast her ponytail nearly smacked me in the face. Before I could react, she had spun back around and thrust a large paper bag into my waiting hands.

Bright eyes flashing, she smiled. “I tucked a few extras in there. And I added dessert on the house.”

My jaw dropped. “You didn’t have to do that,” I began.

She shook her head, blinking rapidly when the end of her ponytail hit her face. “It was my pleasure.” Squeezing her shoulders up to her ears, she smiled. “Good luck!”

She was undeniably cute, but no woman could hold a candle to my Maggie.

Wrapped in a plush robe waxing poetic over the food, I wasn’t sure I needed any extra luck. But I’d take every advantage I could get.

Placing her cutlery beside her plate, she leaned back in her seat. “I don’t think I can move.”

“Good.” I held out my hand. “You’re going to be a pillow princess.”

Her eyebrows rose as she stood and placed her hand in mine. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” I agreed. “If you don’t touch me, I might last more than thirty seconds.”

She laughed as she stepped closer. “I’ll time you.”

I didn’t smile back; I couldn’t.

Instead, I traced the sweet lines of her face. She’d lost the softer curves of youth and gained the faintest of lines at the corners of her eyes.

Her cheeks had hollowed out, her jaw both sharper and somehow softer.

This new Maggie looked so much like my Maggie, but the subtle changes had me staring.

She was a puzzle that enthralled me the same as she always had.

Closing her eyes, she leaned into my hand.

Gifting me trust I hadn’t earned but swore I’d never betray.

Guiding her closer, I pressed my lips to her forehead, the tip of one delicately arched eyebrow, and the smile lines at the outside corner of her eye before trailing over her cheek to the prize of her soft lips.

Opening to me.

Giving me her sweetness.

Sighing sweetly into my mouth as I claimed hers.

I was less than nothing, but I loved her with everything I had. And I would worship her until God plucked me from this earth.

I eased the robe off her shoulders and let it fall, dropping my mouth to the creamy expanse of her shoulder.

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